


So Unlike A Dying Star

by HereWeGoLads



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: Character Death, Enemies, My First AO3 Post, go easy on me i wrote this ages ago, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:17:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17341850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereWeGoLads/pseuds/HereWeGoLads
Summary: It’s in her ams. It’s safe, Nevy has it and she’s never letting go.But now she’s falling, and she can’t stop.She can see the ocean below, green and always moving.She thinks of home, her home, the blues and pinks and turquoises of her own ocean.She thinks of Wrathia; how her hair always looked like flames in the wind and how her laugh could turn cruel at any moment.She thinks of Pedri; his gentle hands and the way he looked at her with cold anger when she had her hands around Wrathia’s neck.





	So Unlike A Dying Star

“Wrathia?” Nevy called. Her voice echoed across the empty hall, one she had walked in too many times. When she closed her eyes, she could still hear their laughter, hers and Wrathia’s, before they knew all they did now. If she doesn’t move, she can feel them pressed against each other, learning to dance.

“Nevy.” Her voice was just as Nevy remembered it. It was smooth and low and confident. “You came.”

“I did,” Nevy said, not trusting herself to say anything else. She felt like she was about to cry already. Seeing _her_ , and knowing she was married to _him_ , was almost too much. “You asked me to.”

“I’ve asked you before,” she said, sounding almost hurt. “Why now, Nervine?”

Nevy felt the sting at Wrathia using her last name, as Wrathia no doubt wanted her to.

“I don’t know. You’ve hurt me so much, Wrathia, and I want to hate you and never have anything to do with you, but I keep coming back.”

“I know. And I’m not going to apologise for doing what I had to-”

“What you had to? _What you had to?_ Is betrayal your duty? You _had to_ desert me, you _had to_ turn Pedri against me, you had to ABANDON ME? IS THAT WHAT YOU HAD TO DO?”  
Wrathia looked almost scared. She was trying to make herself look smaller. Good. Nevy had always been able to intimidate her, even if it was only by copying her anger.

“Nevy, I need you to understand. I need you to listen to me.”

Nevy narrowed her eyes. “Why should I?”

“Because I’m begging you.”

Nevy stopped. The ‘ever powerful’ Wrathia Bellarmina, Vengess Queen of the Cursed and self-proclaimed _god_ , beg? Never.

“...What’s happened?” she asked, her voice softer now, laced with worry and the desire to hold Wrathia close and forget the world, just like they used to.

“A creature calling itself Titan has attacked our empire. It wants us to surrender, or die at the hands or its followers. I’m desperate.” She took a breath in and composed herself. She looked as if she was on the verge of tears. “Pedri refuses to surrender. If we must die, I want to know our child is safe.”

“Your... _child_?” Nevy couldn’t breathe. Wrathia and Pedri - they had - they had a _child_ together. It was too much, it hurt, it hurts _it hurts Wrathia stop it how could you it hurts -_

“Nevy? Nevy?” Wrathia was repeating her name over and over and shaking her. “Nevy? Are you alright?”

_Why is she on the ground?_

“You have a _child?_ ”

“An egg.” There’s something akin to love in her eyes. Nevy can’t fight herself anymore. She cares too much, and the child has done nothing wrong.  
“What would you like me to do?”

 

She’s going too fast but she can’t stop, she won’t stop, not until the egg she’s cradling as she flees across space is _safe_. There are ships, blue and white ones and red and black ones, following her, but still Nevy doesn’t stop.

 

Somewhere, on a planet thousands of light years away from our own, a solitary farmer saw a smear of blinding, brilliant light tear across the sky in a flash of blue and pink, leaving a trail of diamonds in its wake.

 

A child abandoned on a distant watched as thousands of bubbles streaked over their home planet, eyes wide and watching the being that created them.

 

In an ancient temple, a woman’s prayers are answered by a flash of turquoise and a feeling of fear. She knows something beyond her has happened, but not what or why. She leaves the temple.

 

 

They’re following her and they haven’t stopped. They’re small ships, the size of her palm, if that, but they’re fast. They’re faster than she is. And they’re shooting at her.

She doesn’t attack them back. She doesn’t have the energy, and anyway, her arms are full.

“Just a little longer,” she whispers to the baby. “Hold on. We just have to lose them.”  
Their aim is improving - they’ve stopped shooting her legs and are aiming for her torso now and it _hurts_ , but she just has to keep going.  
But then-  
       But then-  
              But then they shoot her right in the chest, and she veers over to the left and gets sucked in by a nearby planet’s gravity and

And she drops the egg.

It falls.

It’s ahead of her, and if she stretches out her arms, she can almost reach it.

She can save it.

She knows she can.

She has to.

It’s all that’s left of Wrathia and Pedri.

She has to.

 

It’s in her ams. It’s safe, Nevy has it and she’s never letting go.  
But now she’s falling, and she can’t stop.  
She can see the ocean below, green and always moving.  
She thinks of home, her home, the blues and pinks and turquoises of her own ocean.  
She thinks of Wrathia; how her hair always looked like flames in the wind and how her laugh could turn cruel at any moment.  
She thinks of Pedri; his gentle hands and the way he looked at her with cold anger when she had her hands around Wrathia’s neck.

She looks down, and sees a child, sitting on a rock, looking out at the ocean.

She looks down at the egg in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, to the egg she failed to protect and to the child who’s so innocent, to Wrathia who turned cold and to Pedri who always was. To her past self, so young and naive and full of hope, and to herself now for never being able to make herself happy.

She takes one last look at the child as he dives underwater, and can hear his laughter, faintly.

“I’m sorry.”


End file.
